Why Wait?
by XxXxDarkVampirexXxX
Summary: Instead of waiting until the end of the Tournament to act, Voldemort has his kidnapping plans bumped up to the first Hogsmeade visit. Surprisingly, it ends up changing absolutely everything. But is it for the better? Or not? Slash fic! AU!Fourth year onward! Warnings inside!
1. Chapter 1

**Yo! ...I'm a piece of shit. I don't know why I keep getting ideas for new things, and none for the ones I'm already working on. Still, none of those other fics have been abandoned or anything. I've just hit a million different blocks. As for this one...well, I haven't fully planned things out yet, so I'm not really sure where it's going to go. I initially planned for this to be under ten chapters long, but I have no fucking idea anymore.**

 **Harry will turn dark and join Voldemort as an equal, Dumbledore will be the enemy, and that's pretty much all I know. I'm not positive on a pairing yet either, though I'd like for there to be one. I don't feel like writing another Tomarry/Harrymort fic, because I do that waaaay too much, so the options here are Severus, Lucius, Barty Jr, or maybe an OMC Death Eater or something-feel free to let me know if you'd like to see one of these pairings-don't suggest others because I can almost guarantee I won't be into it.**

 **This is an AU from GoF onward, and will most definitely be a slash fic, so make note of that. There might be some character bashing, likely AD, if it happens, and possibly some Order members if it gets that far, and maybe temporarily, Ron. Nothing particularly mature will happen until Harry's a litter older, so for now this is just rated for my own peace of mind-I might downgrade it if it ends before anything mature takes place. I'll add more warnings when things come up, so I'd suggest reading AN's, or at least glancing over them. I'm also totally open to ideas or suggestions though understand that I may not use them, if I don't like them. Sorry about the long AN!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters...**

On Halloween, what had, shockingly, been a normal school year for fourteen year old Harry Potter, came to a sudden, unexpected, unwelcome, but ultimately unsurprising, end. Despite his age, and the fact that a Hogwarts Champion had already been declared chosen, Harry's name came flying out of the Goblet of Fire.

He should have known his peace was too good to be true. It always was. He fought, and argued, and pleaded, and yelled, but no matter what he said or did, no one really seemed to believe he hadn't done this himself, didn't seem to believe that he didn't want this. Not the students, not the adults.

Some of them did, sure, but most didn't, and those ones were the most vocal about it too. They seemed to be under the impression that if he truly didn't want to compete, he just wouldn't. But that wasn't how it worked! It was a _legally binding contract_ -he had no choice! Or, that was what the adults told him, at least.

Of course, being _forced_ to compete didn't make Harry feel any better about the situation. In fact, all it meant was that he had less than a month before he ended up killed in front of the entire school, during the first task. What kind of idiots would _willingly_ choose to compete!?

Okay, so he knew plenty of those idiots, but he knew his fellow champions weren't going to be smiling cheerfully (or being all surly, in Krum's case) once the first task actually arrived. They probably had no idea what it was like to risk their lives in extremely dangerous tasks. Krum, being a professional Quidditch player, was likely the one who got closest to death out of the three of them. Delacour and Diggory were just normal students...

The days went by. Harry's anger had only grown. Ron had turned his back on him. Ron had betrayed him. Ron was jealous of him. Or so Hermione said. Harry understood, but at the same time, didn't understand at all. Ron was jealous of his fame and fortune, but for some reason, couldn't get it into his thick skull that the only reason he had those was because his _parents_ were _dead_!

After everything Harry had confided in him about his time at the Dursleys, his supposed 'best friend' still had the balls to get so jealous that he would not just turn his back on him, but spread rumours and lies about him too. If that wasn't being stabbed in the back, Harry didn't know what was.

He would have given anything to trade his life for the one Ron had. Sure the Weasleys weren't the best off financially, but Ron had two parents who loved him unconditionally, and so many siblings who may argue all the time, but would do anything to make sure he stayed safe and happy. Ron always had a roof over his head, and three large meals, along with many snacks, in his belly every day, while he lazed about.

Harry didn't have any of that. Not all the time, at least. His parents were dead. His godfather was an escaped convict. His pseudo godfather was a werewolf who had no legal rights due to his condition. The Dursleys hated his very soul. They mocked and belittled him. They hit him, and starved him, and if they didn't feel like locking him in his old cupboard that he had quite literally grown up in, would instead punish him further by locking him out of the house at night. All night. Often in the rain. That was how much they cared about him. They treated him worse than an animal.

And he had told Ron all of this. Because he had trusted him. Trusted that he would always believe him. Trusted in their friendship. Sure, they were young, but Hermione knew everything Ron did, and she certainly hadn't turned on him. So why had Ron? What excuse did he have save for his petty jealousy?

Because Ron didn't realize, that to have what Harry did, his entire family would have to die, and he was going to have to suffer nearly every day of his life, not to mention literally fight for his life against an actual Dark Lord. But that didn't matter to him, did it? Not as long as he was rich and famous.

How could he forgive something like that...?

* * *

The days passed. The first task grew closer, and despite studying and practising whatever spells he could (with some help from Hermione), Harry got no closer in learning what the task even was, and that was seriously not making things any easier at all. After all, how could one prepare for a task they knew nothing about?

Harry may not have been afraid of death, but that didn't mean he was ready to die quite yet. He was only fourteen! He wasn't-he couldn't-he didn't-he

"Hogsmeade?"

Beside him, his bushy haired friend nodded. "Yes, today's November twenty first-the first Hogsmeade visit is today. Did you forget?"

Harry blinked. "Evidently." He had been more focused on the first task, which was to take place tomorrow morning.

"Well? Are you coming with me?"

The fourteen year old debated, drumming his fingers on Gryffindor Table as he thought. "Why don't you go on ahead?" he finally replied. "I haven't finished breakfast yet, clearly, and there was a spell I've nearly gotten the hang of-shouldn't take much more practice. How about we meet later for lunch or something?"

Hermione frowned, and her brow furrowed in concern. "Are you sure? I don't mind hanging back with you. We can always just go together later in the day. Or even skip it altogether. There's no rush, really. We have hours yet."

But Harry shook his head. "No, don't worry. You go on. Besides, this will give you some alone time in that bookshop you love so much, won't it? I can meet you at the Three Broomsticks around...twelve thirty or one?"

The girl peered at him closely, but was soon satisfied, and nodded. "Alright." She swung her legs off the bench, then stood. "You know where the bookshop is, right? If you don't see me at the Three Broomsticks by one, it might be best for you to come get me yourself."

Harry agreed readily, because that made perfect sense to him. His female friend often lost track of time when she was reading, and if he didn't go to her himself, he wasn't going to see her until the bookshop closed and she was kicked out. ...It had happened once before.

He watched Hermione leave with the other third through seventh years, along with the foreign students as well, and then turned his attention back to his breakfast, the only one left sitting at this section of Gryffindor Table-the first and second years all down at the other end.

Despite what it may have seemed like, the green eyed teen hadn't lied to Hermione at all. He really hadn't finished his breakfast yet, because he had spent too much time lost in thought to eat, and there really was a spell he had been practising recently that he was very close to finally mastering. He knew if he just had another hour or two, he would get the hang of it for sure. And since it was not just the weekend, but a Hogsmeade visit as well, it gave him the perfect chance to practice without being disturbed...

* * *

Once he was done eating, Harry retreated into an empty classroom where he began practising. He was at it for a while, repeating the spell over and over again, not allowing himself to feel discouraged if he failed, or didn't quite get it. He was getting closer to succeeding with each attempt, he told himself, which made it all, even every fail, worth it.

Ugh, when had he become so optimistic? Gross.

"What in the world are you doing in here, Potter? Why are you not off causing mischief and mayhem in Hogsmeade with your...friends?"

Shit. _This_ was why optimism was idiotic.

Forcing himself to remain calm, Harry lowered his wand slightly, and looked up at the man standing in the doorway. "Not that it's any of your business, Professor Snape, but I'm practising for the first task. You know, the one that's tomorrow? The one in the Tournament I never signed up for? And as for my friends, well, friend, as Ron's acting like a daft twat, Hermione is no doubt at the bookstore in Hogsmeade, with her face buried in some book or another."

"And you will remain in the castle all day? I did not believe you would disregard an opportunity to cause havoc somewhere other than Hogwarts."

"Right, well, like I said, I'm just here to practice. I told Hermione I'll meet her later for lunch in the village. Not that this is any of your business either, sir." And why was he telling him this anyway?

Surprisingly, Snape didn't say a word. He simply stood there, staring at him, the expression on his face not quite confused, but not far from it either. It was almost as if he was...surprised. But, why? He hadn't said anything _that_ odd, had he? But the longer the silence went on for, the more ill at ease Harry became.

"Er, Snape?" he finally voiced, feeling slightly uncomfortable. The man hadn't died standing up, had he?

Snape sort of just...twitched, and then, without a word, turned and left the room, closing the door behind him. Harry stared at the shut door, eyes narrowed, brow furrowed, and completely baffled. What the hell had just happened?

After a moment, Harry, despite his confusion, simply shrugged and got back to work. He was so close! Just a few more tries and he was sure to master this bloody spell...

* * *

It was nearly one in the afternoon when Harry finally left Hogwarts, jogging down the path that led to the small village, ignoring those he passed on the way. Snape's interruption had cost him a bit of time, but he had finally mastered that spell, and Harry was now on his way to Hogsmeade to meet his friend. He was a bit late, which was why he was hurrying. Though he was sure he was doing so for no reason. He doubted Hermione had noticed the time at all. She never did.

The dark haired teen had only just entered the village, when-

"Potter."

Harry skidded to a stop, and looked up at the man standing before him, surprised. "Professor Moody?"

"Aye. A word, if you will?"

Harry blinked, green eyes displaying his confusion, but he nodded. "Sure, yeah," he replied somewhat awkwardly.

"Good." Moody looked around, then nodded towards a nearby building. "Here."

Confusion growing, the teen followed his limping professor behind the small building, beginning to wonder if he should start feeling worried about this or not. He had heard so much about Moody, and he doubted the man would hurt him, but this was pretty weird. Then again, maybe he just wanted to tell him something he didn't want to risk anyone overhearing? The guy was known to be pretty...paranoid, wasn't he? That was what he had heard.

Once they had come to a stop, Moody's magical eye whizzed around in every direction, clearly making sure they were alone and there was no one near enough to see or hear them. Satisfied, he turned his attention to Harry. "Got something here for you, Potter. Thought it'd help." He reached into his pocket, and pulled out-a book?

Harry blinked, but just as he reached for it, Moody dropped it, and it hit the ground with a thump.

"Damn," the man cursed. "Grab that, will you, laddie?"

The teen simply bent down, having no reason not to pick it up. The moment he touched the book, Moody grabbed his shoulder, and half a second later, barely even that, he felt as if his navel had been hooked and was tugged away before he could even process what was happening...

 **And that's it for now. Looking forward to reviews! Laterz!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Yo! Apologies for the wait. Depression is a bitch and fucks with what little motivation I still have. Anyway guys, I'm pretty sure I said pairing options are Severus, Barty, Lucius, or an OMC Death Eater. That's it. No one else. So if you're someone who asked for someone other than those four, well, you're out of luck. Either way, most people have asked for Barty so far, but I'm still undecided, so there's still time. Still, thank you to all readers so far!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters...**

Harry landed hard on his left arm, and hissed in pain. He rolled over with a groan, and then sat up abruptly, realizing he most definitely wasn't in Hogsmeade anymore. Not unless the village had a graveyard in it, and he was quite positive it didn't.

"On your feet, Potter."

Before Harry could even blink, Moody had hauled him up, and keeping a firm grip on his uninjured arm, began leading him through the graveyard, and up a hill towards a-a large manor? Where the hell were they?

He didn't voice his question, too busy looking around as he was pulled up the hill, heading straight for the massive house. It looked pretty old, he noted rather absently, but not particularly imposing. It seemed decently well kept, although that lawn needed a fair bit of work-it would never ever meet Aunt Petunia's standards, that was for sure.

"In, Potter. Up the stairs."

Harry obeyed, and though it was surely a very late reaction, finally felt the beginnings of dread seeping into his gut. Something was definitely wrong here. At first, he had thought this might have something to do with the Tournament. But Moody was staying pretty quiet, and there certainly didn't appear to be anyone around, which made him think otherwise.

Slowly, and cautiously, Harry made his way up the large, wooden, creaky staircase, hearing Moody clunking up behind him, the man still gripping his right arm, which had turned at a rather awkward angle.

At the landing at the top of the stairs, was a room. Harry couldn't see much, since the door wasn't open all the way, but he saw some old furniture, and what may have been a fireplace. He didn't get a longer look, because his professor moved in front of him again, and led him down the oddly dusty hallway.

Dusty? Harry looked around closer. Yes, everything was dusty, very much so. Enough so, actually, that it had him wondering whether anyone actually lived in this place. Because he was beginning to think the answer was no. Or at least, had been no up until very recently.

...This didn't bode well for him at all, did it?

Moody came to a sudden stop, forcing Harry to do the same, the abrupt lack of motion pulling the teen out of his turbulent thoughts. Craning his neck, he managed to look around his professor, and realized that they had stopped because they had reached the end of the hallway and another closed door.

"Enter."

Harry blinked. The voice, a whisper, both clear and firm, had the hairs on the back of his neck standing at attention almost immediately. Dread getting worse, Harry watched as Moody pushed the door open, before pulling him into the room.

Harry paid absolutely no attention on the room itself, his gaze instead locked on the... _thing_ in the armchair. He knew what- _who_ this was immediately. It didn't take a genius to figure it out, not to mention his scar had begun to burn a little. Honestly though, Harry wasn't sure whether he wanted to laugh or cry.

He settled on a strangled mix of both.

So, he realized, Moody was actually evil and was working for the other side this entire time, and had kidnapped him and brought him straight to the Dark Lord himself. Fantastic. Fanfuckingtastic. Fanshittuckingfast-

 **"The little hatchling is not as frightened as you he said you be, Master."**

 **"He is not frightened?"** the...thing spoke, sounding somewhat surprised.

The large, (Oh god that's a big snake!) coiled up the occupied armchair, hissing. **"He is shocked. He is angry. He is annoyed. But he is not frightened. You said he would be frightened, Master. You promised me. The two-leggs are always more fun to chase when they are frightened. The hatchling is already boring me."**

Harry just blinked. He wanted to answer, especially considering Voldemort clearly hadn't gotten the memo about Harry being a Parselmouth as well, and was about to answer as well, when yet something else shocking happened. A gasp escaped Moody, and when Harry turned, he was surprised to see the man double over, panting, his skin beginning to bubble. Harry recognized what was happening immediately. How could he not? He had gone through this himself in his Second year.

Polyjuice Potion. Moody wasn't Moody at all. Hadn't been this entire time. And while that explained why the man had kidnapped him, it didn't explain, well, most anything else.

So, which Death Eater had been masquerading as Mad-Eye Moody this whole time? Malfoy Sr? Er...someone...else? Harry didn't really know very many Death Eaters at all, honestly. He hadn't even known _what_ a Death Eater even was until a handful of months ago. Ron thought just being in Slytherin meant you were one, but Harry didn't agree with that. Still, the only person he was positive _was_ a Death Eater, was Lucius Malfoy.

But as the new person straightened up, it was pretty obvious that it wasn't a Malfoy at all. It was a man, who was fairly tall and lean. His skin was pale, his hair brown and a bit messy, his eyes dark. His age wasn't fully apparent, but he didn't seem all that old.

The first thing Harry thought was that this person didn't look familiar to him at all. And then, after a few seconds of staring, he realized that wasn't quite true, because the longer he looked at the man, the more he thought he _did_ actually look vaguely familiar. But...why? Where had he seen him before?

"Barty. My most faithful. You have done well to bring Potter to me," little Voldemort spoke in his high, raspy voice.

Barty, whoever he was, immediately dropped to a knee, and bowed his head. "I thank you, My Lord." Despite his submissive posture, he had a rather maniacal grin on his face that had a shiver running down Harry's spine. A shiver of fear? Or of something else?

"This, Potter," said little Voldemort, seemingly deciding to explain, "is Bartemius Crouch Jr. You'll know his father, I presume. He has been in my service since he was barely older than you. Still a child, yet so loyal. So faithful."

Harry did indeed know who Barty's father was, though he wasn't quite sure what to think about it. The strict Ministry worker's son was a Death Eater? Weird, but...maybe not wholly unexpected. Maybe becoming a Death Eater had been Barty's way to rebel against his father?

Well, whatever. Harry had something more important to think about right now. Something that had been on his mind since he had first been forced to enter this big, kind of dusty room.

"Why am I still alive?"

Little Voldemort, whose appearance Harry _really_ didn't want to focus on, made an odd sound that was probably supposed to be a chuckle, but sounded like anything but. "Killing you at present would solve nothing, Potter."

Harry blinked. That was not the answer he had been expecting. "If you don't want to kill me, then what _do_ you want from me? Why am I here?"

It was Barty who answered him, elegantly rising to his feet once more, and peering down at him. "My Lord requires your aid, Harry Potter."

 **It's not particularly long, but at least it's an update. Looking forward to reviews! Laterz!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Yo! Look, I know not all of you are happy by some of the potential pairings, but that's all they are right now-potential. I've already given you your four options. This isn't an official vote or anything, but I do try taking them into account. Right now, most people are saying Barty, but for all I know, I may end up going with Severus or Lucius, even if less ask for them. I don't know yet. I haven't thought it out. That's why, until I do, you may see hints of different pairings based on characters' reactions. But stay polite, don't demand certain pairings, don't bring up not wanting to see other pairings, and don't insult or degrade the other options, got it? I've already had to delete a couple of anon reviews because of this shit. If you don't like Barty, or Sev, or Lucius, keep it to yourself. If I agreed with your dislike, I wouldn't have made them a pairing option.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters...**

"...What?" Harry questioned eloquently.

"My Lord requires your aid," Barty repeated.

"I heard you the first time!"

"Then why did you say 'what'?"

"...Ugh." Harry dropped down into the nearest armchair, and buried his face in his hands. None of this made any sense to him. The fact that he was still alive was weird enough on its own. "What could _I_ possibly do to help _you_?" he questioned eventually.

"Give me your blood," Little Voldemort replied swiftly.

Harry balked. "Why the hell would I do _that_!?" he questioned incredulously. "And saying you demanded it seriously isn't a valid answer to that!" he added quickly.

The two villains were quiet for a moment, neither of them speaking, or even moving. They simply remained as they were, both of them peering at the teen closely, almost as if they were debating or considering something. Harry couldn't possibly imagine what that was, but hey, he was still alive, so he wasn't going to complain. Well, not yet, at least.

"Barty."

Barty inclined his head. "As you wish, my Lord." He sat down in the chair near Little Voldemort, and across Harry, fixing him with an oddly calm gaze. "What do you know of my Lord's plans, Potter?" he inquired.

Caught off guard yet again, this time by the polite tone of voice, Harry just blinked. "Er-" Honestly, he had absolutely no idea _what_ to say in response, for the simple fact that he didn't actually _have_ an answer. He had no idea what Voldemort's plans, current or long term, even were. It wasn't as if people went out of their way to explain things to him anyway. "Er-he wants to kill me?"

Barty smirked, as if amused, but the expression vanished quickly enough. "Beyond that, Potter."

"Take over the world?" That was what Dark Lords did, right?

Little Voldemort made that weird sound again. The one that was supposed to be a chuckle, but sounded way too creepy to actually be one. "Ah, if only it were that simple."

Barty seemed to share that sentiment, but didn't elaborate on Voldemort's words. Instead, he refocused on Harry. Well, refocused as much as he could for not having looked away from the teen at all. That was pretty creepy too. "Have you ever considered, Potter, that the Light's leader Albus Dumbledore has been purposely hiding things from you?"

Harry blinked. Well, _that_ hadn't been the first thing he had expected to hear. Still, the answer to that particular question was very simple. "Yes." He'd been thinking that since his very first year, though he hadn't ever voiced that to anyone other than his godfather, who had fully agreed with him.

"Has he ever told you why he conceals things from you?"

"Uh, not really. He's mentioned me being too young to learn more a couple of times, but that's pretty much it. I mean, I know he's probably lying about that, or at least...embellishing a little, I guess, but everyone else seems to believe in him, other than the Slytherins I mean, so I kinda just...I dunno."

"Mimicked everyone else?"

"I guess?"

Barty actually appeared to be quite interested in the teen's words. Little Voldemort was no different. They listened to Harry patiently as he spoke, and once he had trailed off awkwardly, exchanged a glance.

"Do you think, Potter, that Dumbledore has the habit of manipulating and using others to his own advantage?" the still relative stranger who had been masquerading as a professor, asked calmly.

But Harry had the answer to that too. "Yes."

Harry hadn't told anyone this, not even Ron and Hermione, but he had had more contact with Sirius over the summer than everyone thought. He hadn't really had a reason not to. Sirius was his godfather, and was concerned about him. The man had been adamant that Harry remain in contact with him, and Harry had.

Yes, there was always a concern about their letters being intercepted, and that going badly in Sirius' favour thanks to him being an escaped convict, but there were other ways to communicate besides owl post. House-Elf post, for example.

With Dobby being so eager to help Harry (so long as he didn't try saving his life again), Harry had asked Dobby if it would be possible for him to take letters to Sirius every now and again, so long as he did so when he was positive Sirius was alone. And at the same time, asked him if he could return letters Sirius wrote to him, with the same conditions. The House-Elf had agreed, and it was in that method that godfather and godson had remained in close contact over the summer, and even now at Hogwarts.

With there being basically no way for anyone else to see these letters, both Harry and Sirius had been a little more...open with one another. And one of the things they had discussed was Dumbledore and his perchance for doing exactly what Barty had just said.

Sirius, despite what Harry had thought, didn't actually like Dumbledore very much. He had, at one point, as all good Gyffindors do, but not anymore. Dumbledore should have known, Sirius had said, that the Potters had changed Secret Keepers. He had known Sirius had been the Keeper first, even though no one had told him about it, so how hadn't he known when it had been changed?

Dumbledore, of all people, should have listened to Sirius when he had told him he was innocent of the crime he had supposedly committed. But he hadn't. Dumbledore, thanks to his position on the Wizengamont, could very easily have demanded Sirius have a trial, regardless of whether he was innocent or guilty. But he hadn't even brought it up. Not even once. He could have done it all those years ago after the incident. Could have done it during all those years Sirius had been locked up in Azkaban. But he hadn't. He could have done it now, now that Sirius had broken out and seemed to know the truth himself. But he wasn't. He was insisting that Sirius remain hidden and on the run.

And to both Sirius and Harry, what that meant was that Dumbledore didn't actually ever _want_ Sirius to be declared innocent. And there was no reason for that. Not really. Not one that they knew, at least. Unless he just wanted to make sure Harry couldn't stay with Sirius. Because if his godfather was officially pardoned, then there would be no reason for Harry to stay with the Dursleys anymore. Was that was Dumbledore was trying to avoid?

"Yes," Harry said again. "I know he uses people. I know he does it all the time. And I know that usually, those people don't actually know it. And even if they do, there isn't really anything they can do about it."

"But you have noticed," Little Voldemort spoke hoarsely. "You have noticed it, and you have been questioning it."

"I guess, yeah," Harry replied awkwardly, shrugging.

"Then tell us, Potter. You do not know what the Dark is fighting for, but do you know what the Light-the sight you are on, is after?"

And yet again, the answer was simple. "No." No one had ever told him anything. Not what either side wanted, not what they wanted, not what they wanted from him either. All in all, Harry was beginning to realize that he honestly didn't know much of anything.

"We are offering to inform you of what our side desires," Barty spoke.

Harry's eyes narrowed. "That's admirable and all, but again, what exactly do you want from me? There's no way this information's gonna be free."

"You would be correct in that assumption." Barty's eyes were locked on Harry's, gaze focused and intense.

"What do you want?" Harry didn't notice his voice had lowered to a whisper, gaze locked with the man across him. And though Barty and Harry didn't look away, it was Little Voldemort who answered.

"Join us, Harry Potter. Join me."

Finally able to tear his gaze away, Harry looked at the thing Voldemort had become. "Why?"

"We can aid one another, Harry. You have much you can offer to my side, and my side has much it can offer to you."

And the weird thing about all this, Harry thought, was that he wasn't even disturbed by the offer. Part of him was actually... _considering_ it. Slowly, he looked up. "Can I..."

"Yes?"

"Can I-can I think about it?

Well, _that_ clearly surprised the other two. No doubt they had been expecting an adamant refusal from him, seeing as who he was and everything.

"If you are thinking of going to Dumbledore-"

"Barty," Little Voldemort interrupted.

The younger man stopped instantly, and bowed his head. "My Lord."

"Harry will not go to the old man, will you Harry? You are too suspicious of him. Yes, I will give you time. Think on my offer, Harry. Think on it hard. You can go to Barty if there is anything you wish to know. He will inform me in turn if need be."

Harry just nodded, unsure of what he could even say right now.

"Take him back now, Barty. It will not do to garner negative attention quite yet."

"As you wish, my Lord." Barty stood and gestured for Harry to do the same, the two making their way to the door. But they didn't get very far before the teen stopped and turned back around.

"One thing."

"Yes?"

"The TriWizard Tournament. I didn't enter it, no matter what anyone says. Were you the one who entered me?"

"I?" Little Voldemort voiced. "No, it was not I."

"Was it you, then?"

Barty smirked, but shook his head once. "No, it wasn't. But you already know who it really was, don't you?" With that, he left the room, Harry following after him.

"Harry," Little Voldemort called out hoarsely. "As a show of good faith, I will tell you this. Your first task in that tournament is to steal a particular egg from a dragon-a nesting mother."

And that was that. The door shut behind Harry, who followed Barty back down the hall, the stairs, out the front door, and back towards the graveyard. Barty paused only to take another dose of Polyjuice Potion, and the moment he had straightened back up, appearance that of Mad-Eye Moody's once more, he grabbed hold of Harry and the two vanished.

 **I'm going to be honest here. I've never really written Barty's character before, and since there are very few fics with him that actually interest me, and his role in canon was rather...lacking, you'll have to forgive me if he's coming across as a bit ooc. I'm hoping to fix that as I keep writing. Looking forward to reviews! Laterz!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Yo! I had this chapter finished like, a week ago, but then I got really sick and was in no state to do anything, let alone edit and post this. I'm still on antibiotics, and will be for about another week, but I'm getting better, though I still can't stand for more than a minute. I've barely eaten this past week, so I'm trying to fix that and get my energy levels back up a bit.**

 **Anyway, after reading through this again, I honestly can't think of which pairing to go with, from the options I've given you. Really, it can go either way. So I think for now, while Harry's still this young, everything will remain friendly or just a tad pre-slash, with Barty, Severus, and Lucius. That way, if he does end up in a relationship with one of them later on, it won't seem like it came completely out of nowhere. So there won't be anything totally major, again, cause Harry's young, but there will be hints of things with all three men. And by hints, I don't mean he's going to be snogging them all in a broom cupboard or anything. It'll just be random thoughts or dialogue-like how in the other chapter Harry wasn't sure he shivered because of Barty's maniacalness, or something else. The final relationship, should the fic even go that far, will be with only one of them though, so please do make note of that-I will, of course, inform you all if I make that decision. So, if you don't like the thought of an indecisive possible pairing, this may not be for you.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters...**

The moment Harry and 'Moody' reappeared at Hogsmeade, back behind the building they had initially disappeared from, the man released the teen and limped a couple of steps back.

"Find your friend, Potter. You lost track of time practising your spells, and only arrived here now."

Harry just nodded in agreement. Right now, all he wanted to do was find Hermione, get back to Hogwarts, practice more now that he knew what to expect, and get the first task over with so he could properly think on everything he had just heard.

The moment the two parted ways, Harry hurried to the bookstore, quickly tracking down his friend who was, as he had expected, sitting with her face buried in a rather thick book she was already half way through. Rushing over to her, he came to a stop and shook her shoulder to get her attention. Hermione's head snapped up, eyes wide.

"Harry!" She looked around as if trying to regain her bearings and then frowned. "What time is it?"

"Later than we agreed to meet. I lost track of time when I was practising. But never mind that, we need to talk."

"Talk?"

"Yeah, not here though. Let's head back to the castle. It's important."

Hermione's frown deepened but she nodded, got to her feet, replaced the book, and together the two left the store, walking back to Hogwarts. Sensing the seriousness of the situation, the girl didn't question things just yet but was growing rather worried, wondering what it was that Harry wanted to talk about.

When they made it back to the castle, Harry didn't, as Hermione had expected, head up to Gryffindor Tower. Instead they went up a couple of floors, and then into what was immediately recognizable as one of the castle's many unused classrooms. Once the door was shut and locked behind them, Hermione turned to her friend.

"What's this about?" she inquired.

Harry sighed, ran his fingers through his hair in what appeared to be an agitated manner, then said, "I just found out what the first task is."

Hermione blinked. "You did?"

"It's dragons. Nesting mothers, specifically. Apparently I have to steal some kind of egg."

The girl just stared, and for a long moment, didn't seem to know what to say. Eyes wide, she blinked again and again, mouth agape. And then, "W-what!?" she exclaimed shrilly. "But that's-that's-!"

"Crazy," Harry agreed, "yeah. So, how the hell do I steal an egg from a dragon without getting eaten or charred?"

"I...I don't know." Hermione frowned, then bit her lip. If _dragons_ were just the _first_ task, she didn't even want to _think_ about what the next two were going to be.

Giving her time to think, Harry moved through the room and dropped down onto the nearest chair. He was glad Hermione was too distracted to ask him _how_ he had figured out what the task was, because he wasn't quite ready to tell her the truth, and hadn't thought of a plausible and convincing lie just yet either.

But really, what could he possibly do in this situation-in this task? Had the others already figured it out? Did they know what the task was? Had they already come up with feasible plans?

"Attacking the dragon is completely out of the question," Hermione declared a few moments later, breaking the silence that had fallen around them. "Your magic won't be able to do a thing to it. Even the older students won't be a match, in that particular aspect."

"So there's gotta be some other way besides a direct attack?"

"Yes. You don't have a choice for that. It takes multiple dragon tamers to even _stun_ a dragon."

Harry watched her pace around the room as he thought, his brow furrowed and his finger tapping on his thigh. Nothing offensive, huh? What did that leave him with? He was sure he hadn't learned anything in classes that would help. They hadn't even _studied_ dragons yet!

He frowned, hearing his friend begin to mutter to herself rapidly, her brain no doubt forming and dismissing new plans one after another. "What about a distraction?"

Hermione paused mid-step to look at him. "A distraction? ...A distraction..." She resumed pacing, going from one end of the classroom to the opposite end, and back. "Distractions... Distractions... Distractions..."

Harry's finger continued tapping, green eyes unfocused as he stared at his friend without really even seeing her anymore. How did a person distract a dragon? And keep it distracted long enough to steal an egg from it?

He could conjure a snake, he supposed, like Malfoy had done during the duelling club during second year, but would a huge dragon even notice such a small snake? ...Probably not. He didn't know how to conjure any other kind of animal, and didn't know how to transfigure anything into an animal either. And he didn't have enough time at all to learn a spell like that. The task was set to begin in less than twenty four hours.

Honestly, that just meant he didn't really have the time to learn _any_ new spell. Well, he _could_ learn it, he just wouldn't be able to be good enough to use it by tomorrow morning. Which meant it was best if he stuck with something he already knew well enough.

But what did he already know that could help him against a dragon? He'd only ever dealt with Norbert, and honestly, that hadn't gone particularly well. He couldn't attack the dragon... None of the defensive spells he knew would be at all useful... The more he thought about it, the less likely it seemed like he was going to be able to use _any_ magic against this thing at all! But if he couldn't use magic, what else did he have!?

But the answer was right there, as obvious as day, and he frowned, thinking it through. "What if I fly?"

Hermione's head snapped towards him. "Fly?" she repeated. "On your broom-your Firebolt?"

"Yeah. I can't bring anything other than my wand with me into the stadium, and I can't use magic _on_ the dragon, so what if I summon my broom to me instead?"

"And-and fly around the dragon?" The girl bit her lip. "Will that really work though? You're certainly very quick, but..."

"Am I faster than a dragon breathing fire at me?"

"Yeah..."

Harry sighed. "I don't know. I seriously don't, but...at this point, what other choice do I have?"

Hermione rubbed her temples, clearly annoyed with herself for not having been able to come up with anything useful. "None, I don't think."

That, the green eyed teen agreed with. There really didn't seem to be anything else he could do-nothing he could think of, at least. And he _knew_ how to fly, was good at it too. Surely that had to count for something.

Maybe it wasn't going to be good enough. Maybe he was going to get himself killed. But honestly, death was a possibility _regardless_ of what he did. It was better, in his opinion, to do something he already knew and was comfortable with, then trying something entirely new and failing before he could even start.

"I'm going to kill Dumbledore if I die in this bloody tournament," he muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, don't worry about it." Sighing, Harry got to his feet. "Flying it is. I'd better brush up on my summoning charm, just in case." It was a spell he had only recently learned in class, so it would be worth it.

Hermione nodded in agreement. "I'll help you."

 **And that's it for now. Royal Rumble's tonight, so I'm getting hyped for that. Hopefully it'll go well. Looking forward to reviews! Laterz!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Yo! Thank you to all readers so far!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters...**

Harry was really not in a good mood when he woke up the next morning. The first task was literally a mere two hours away and though he appeared to be fairly calm on the outside, he was, quite literally, panicking on the inside. Hermione had helped him practice the summoning charm, and though she was confident he would succeed at it, Harry himself wasn't quite as sure.

On the inside, he knew it was just nerves messing with him. He knew he would be able to summon his broom from the stadium. He knew he would. But his nerves over the task were making it kind of hard to actually believe it, and that didn't help matters at all. Those matters and nerves were made even worse when he realized he was to face off against the worst and most dangerous of the four dragons, if what he recalled Hagrid saying in his first year was correct.

...Dammit.

He really did have reservations about this whole flying thing, but he knew he didn't have much choice here. Like he had thought the afternoon before, there hadn't been any time to learn something new, and the smartest thing to do would be to just focus on an ability he already knew well-like flying. He _knew_ that, he did, but it didn't really help...

* * *

Harry felt like he was about to throw up. He was the only one left in the champion's tent, the other three having already faced off their own dragons and no doubt successfully having obtained their golden eggs. Harry was the only one left, and he was sure to be called out any seco-oh, yeah, there it was.

Wand gripped tightly in hand, Harry left the tent and made the short walk over to the stadium. It was absolutely packed. He didn't care that people were watching-he was used to that from Quidditch. His main concern was that massive dragon on the opposite side of the enclosure.

She had her eyes on him, watching him closely though she didn't move away from the nest of eggs below her. Harry figured she was waiting to see what kind of a threat he was. It wasn't a big one, he knew. She was quiet as well, unlike the mostly booing and jeering crowd.

But Harry didn't care about them right now. He had bigger things to worry about-literally. He swallowed hard, focusing his magic, and then firmly intoned, " _Accio_ _Firebolt_!"

The crowd was unimpressed when nothing happened instantly and only jeered more. Clearly they had forgotten how summoning charms worked, because Harry remained where he was, waiting. It didn't take long. Hermione had brought his Firebolt and left it hidden behind some bushes just outside the stadium so that he wasn't going to have to wait for it to get to him from all the way over in his dorm.

And sure enough, just a few seconds later the broom came into view. Preparing himself, Harry watched its approach closely and grabbed it as soon as it was close enough, mounting it immediately and shooting up into the air. He didn't need to do that bit-didn't need to go so high up, but it helped clear some of his nerves, allowing him to relax a little.

Taking a few breaths he gave his head a little shake and began to descend. The dragon was still watching him. He tried out a few of the simple Quidditch tactics he knew, and soon realized that the dragon didn't at all care about his presence so long as he kept his distance. It was only when he began getting a bit too close to her for comfort that she shifted around uneasily, and if that distance closed even further, it was then that she would breathe fire at him.

Okay, that was fine. That made sense. Now he just had to find a way around this. He could try a diversion, he knew. That was bound to work. But how? What would distract a dragon enough to draw her attention away from him and her eggs? There had to be _something_ out there!

As he and Hermione had discussed the previous day, he couldn't use a spell on the dragon itself, not even something for a diversion. So he had to do something else. Something to change or manipulate or conjure something in the environment in the stadium-something here nearby where she would notice it.

Conjuring...no, that wouldn't work. He only knew how to conjure a Patronus and was fully aware that even though some of his nerves had faded, he was still too unfocused to perform such a high level spell. That was only going to get him burned. And he didn't know how to conjure anything larger than a snake, not that that was going to help.

Something else then...something simple that he already knew. He just needed a little distraction, just one that would last a moment. He was quick, he wasn't going to need long to grab that stupid egg. He just needed the Horntail to divert her attention to something else for just a few seconds.

God, this was actually _harder_ than dealing with dememtors, or Voldemort, or Fluffy, or that tro-huh.

Eyes narrowed in concentration, Harry, still hovering on his broom a safe distance away from the creature, turned his wand on one of the many large boulders that seemed to randomly be laying around-like the one he had hidden himself behind at first. " _Wingardium_ _Leviosa_!"

He was genuinely surprised when the boulder levitated off the ground. He hadn't been sure the spell would work on such a large and heavy object, but he wasn't about to question his luck. He glanced at the dragon, and found that she was eyeing the now floating boulder. Clearly it had managed to catch her attention.

Now he just had to keep it.

With slow, deliberate movements, Harry directed the boulder this way and that, and the dragon followed its movements. ...If he allowed the boulder to shoot forward towards her quickly, would that be enough to get her off guard? Just for an instant even? It was worth a try.

Continuing to move the large rock around, Harry slowly and carefully began to fly further and further away from it, wondering what the range on this spell was. He hadn't ever used it like this before. Fortunately for him it continued to follow the motions of his wand, and the dragon was no longer paying him any attention. Good, just a little bit more.

He began moving the boulder closer to the dragon, and on the other side did the same himself. When he was as close as he dared to get until he was sure the dragon wouldn't notice him, he flicked his wand up sharply. The boulder shot upwards high into the air, and the dragon's head tipped back to watch the abrupt movement.

This was his chance!

As fast as the boulder had gone up, Harry shot down towards the dragon, grabbed the egg, struggled to cradle it under one of his arms, and rapidly shot back away, nearly dropping the damn egg. The boulder came crashing back down just an instant later, and the dragon released a startled roar. But by that point Harry had made it back to the other end of the stadium, where he landed, safe.

He watched a group of dragon tamers run towards the Horntail, but didn't get to see more because Madam Pomfrey then hauled him into the healing tent she had set up. ...Was he the only one of the champions to have come out unharmed? No, Krum seemed to be fine.

And then Hermione came vaulting into him, practically knocking him over before dragging him back to the stadium where his scores were being shown. It wasn't a perfect score, but it was damn close. Apparently a couple of the judges weren't pleased that he had used such 'low level' spells. Hermione was the first to claim how idiotic that was, since Harry was only a fourth year, but Harry himself didn't really care.

The first task had finally come to an end.

 **I've had a brutal migraine for the past seven or eight hours that painkillers have done literally nothing for, so please forgive me if I missed something in my editing. Also, the assholes who live above us are one again bouncing a fucking ball directly over my head. I hate them. Looking forward to reviews! Laterz!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Yo! Thank you to all readers so far!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters...**

With the egg clue being something he wasn't going to have to have figured out until near the end of February, Harry shoved the damn thing under his bed. He'd do something about that a little later. Right now he had something else on his mind. Voldemort and Barty.

The meeting the three had had the other day had been very interesting, to say the least. The fact that he had gotten out of there alive and unharmed was positively shocking.

He wasn't surprised that they wanted, or had wanted him to think on Dumbledore's true nature, and Harry supposed he was lucky that that was something he had already been doing. What _did_ surprise him was that they wanted him to join their side-wanted him to join the Dark.

And that was all fine and dandy-that they wanted that, but Harry wasn't about to join them without them telling him anything about their side and what they wanted or were planning. He wasn't an idiot. If they wanted him to join _before_ telling him these very important things, then they could just go fuck right off.

Maybe the only reason they hadn't was because he just hadn't asked them anything about it. They both had been fairly open and casual, hadn't they? Maybe if he had, at the time, asked them, one of them would have explained a few things.

Now that he was back in the castle, he couldn't exactly go and ask Little Voldemort these things...but he supposed he could still ask Barty. That was what Voldemort had told him to do anyway, right?

He was alright with that. He didn't particularly mind having to go ask him questions or anything, but... Would it really be a good idea for him to go straight to who was clearly currently the Dark Lord's right hand man? Would it be better for him to...tell someone, maybe?

...How would Hermione react if he told her about all this? Would she freak out, or would she be able to think about this rationally? Or would she freak out and then be able to think rationally? Harry wasn't really sure, but he didn't think going without telling anyone was a very good idea.

Telling Hermione it was.

* * *

Harry waited until the weekend. Everyone was still focused on him (along with the other Champions) thanks to the task they had just completed, and he figured showing them that he couldn't care less about their words and opinions and this daft tournament was the best way to go for the time being. So with that, he spent the week with most of his attention on his classes and school work.

And on Saturday he took Hermione aside, telling her he wanted to go for a walk around the lake, and once they were alone outside, began to tell her what had happened. He told her about 'Moody' bumping into him and taking him away, he told her about 'Moody' being Barty, he told her about Little Voldemort, he told her what they'd said to him, and he told her that Little Voldemort was the one who had told him what the first task was, along with that neither of the two men had been the ones to enter him into the tournament.

Hermione was beyond surprised, to say the least, and she definitely freaked out at first, though it didn't take her very long to calm back down and her brow to furrow in thought. "So...so, ignoring that neither of them entered you into this tournament for right now, he-he doesn't want to kill you?"

Harry shrugged. "I mean, considering he didn't, even though he had the perfect opportunity, I guess not? Really, he just wanted me to start questioning things."

"That and join him, evidently." Hermione bit her lip. "Are-are you really considering it though? Joining You-Know-Who?"

"I...don't know. Kind of?" He came to a stop by the lake, Hermione doing the same, and stared out into the water, ignoring the Durmstrang ship on the opposite bank. After a moment of hesitation, Harry told his friend about what he and Sirius had been talking about over the past few months-their thoughts and suspicions.

Hermione listened to him in silence, sighed, then sat down under the nearby tree with a huff. "I don't understand this," she admitted.

Harry sat down next to her, smiling wryly. "I don't either, honestly."

"What do you want to do?"

"I...I want to learn more about them. Their side. The Dark. I want to know what they want. What're they trying to accomplish?"

"But you don't want to learn the same about the other side? The Light side?"

"I do," said Harry, "but... I know you respect him and all, but I don't feel like I can trust Dumbledore. Sirius can't either. There's so much that's happened that Dumbledore's either had or should have had control over, that didn't end up going well for reasons that could easily have been prevented. I just feel like there's a lot he's hiding from people on purpose."

Hermione frowned, toying with the grass. "Do you really think You-Know-Who will actually be open with you and explain everything? Or at least give this...Barty the permission to do it?"

Harry picked up a few pebbles laying around nearby, weighing them in his had absently. "I don't think they'll explain everything straight away," he said slowly. "They'd be stupid if they did. But I do think they'll answer some of my questions if I ask them. I think they _want_ me to know more about their side. They want me to join them, don't they? If they lie, and then I join them, won't I end up learning the truth then? What would be the point?"

The girl's brow furrowed. "So you think they're just trying to be cautious with how much they tell you right away?" But she answered her own question. "I suppose that makes sense. You're still only fourteen. They can't expect you to have first hand understanding and knowledge and experience when it comes to everything they'll be talking or thinking about."

"Do you think I should do this?"

"Do I think you should join You-Know-Who? No, not really, but..." Hermione chewed on her bottom lip, debating on the right words to use, and after a pause, said, "If you _do_ decide to join him, I want it to be _your_ decision. Not something you've been talked or tricked into doing."

"Will you hate me if I do?"

She shook her head. "If you join him, then you'll have a really good reason for doing it. Reasons I may even agree with."

Harry's eyes widened, and he looked round at her. "Are you saying you might join them with me?"

"I-I can't say for sure. I mean, it'll depend on what they're after, of course. But you're a good person, Harry, so if you choose to join them, it'll mean you agree with what they want. And if you agree, then it's likely that it's a good thing. I guess you just...have to find out first."

Harry nodded, tossed the handful of pebbles into the lake where they splashed loudly, then nodded again. "I guess I'll try talking to Barty tonight. I'll take my Invisibility Cloak, but you can keep the map with you, just in case."

Hermione nodded too, agreeing. If she could keep an eye on the map, she'd be able to make sure Harry stayed in the castle, and that no one else tried to interfere in what was happening. Hopefully Harry would be able to learn more without getting hurt.

There really was no telling how this was going to go.

 **That's it for now. Looking forward to reviews! Laterz!**


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